


Eulogy for Mycroft

by Tikatikox



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Gen, Holmes Brothers, Hurt/Comfort, Mycroft Being Mycroft, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Being a Good Brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 01:23:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tikatikox/pseuds/Tikatikox
Summary: Sherlock gets a news that his big brother is already dead and he's the one who's going to give a speech at his brother's funeral. No slash, just brotherly feels.





	Eulogy for Mycroft

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, English is not my native language, so I'm sorry for any grammar mistake. It's kind of angst but with a happy end (?), hope you enjoyed it!

  
  


Sherlock has been sleeping after solved few small cases in one day and it's unusually for him to get this exhausted. So he jumps into his bed and shut down his hard drive. But not for the couple of hours his phone barked in the middle of the night, interrupt his deep slumber. 

His mind still unfocused so he picked up the phone without deducing it first. 

He struggles to keep his eyes opened when he heard a familiar woman's voice. 

 

"Okay" was his only answer. He didn't really catch what she was saying but her tone was really sad. She sounds like crying. Still, in his hazy mind, Sherlock decided to go to the kitchen to make some tea. 

 

While sipping his tea and try to freshen up his sleepy head by pacing in the kitchen, he heard John come down from his room in a hurry. He could see John was planning to go to his room and stops when he sees the man were in the kitchen. 

"Sherlock, what the fuck are you doing!?"

 

"Good God that phone call must be really important. I need some time to," he pointed his head childishly "wake up my hard drive"

 

John look tries to ignore his friend's antics and take a deep breath. 

"You get a phone call?"

 

"Yes, from a woman but I still try to remember who is she-"

 

"Anthea. That's Anthea." 

John's tone softened when he figured out what is really happening. His flatmate hasn't listened to the phone call properly. 

 

"Anthea? Ah, no wonder it sounds familiar. I think she was crying-"

 

"He's dead, Sherlock."

 

Sherlock who's been pacing in the kitchen with his cup of tea just stopped in his track. He looks into John's eyes like a lost puppy. 

 

"Sherlock, I'm sorry to break the news but he's dead. Your brother is dead. Anthea said we could go to Barts to see his body before the funeral."

John say this while he keeps his eyes on Sherlock's face to see his emotions. Anthea keeps reminding him to stay close to his flatmate in case he can't handle the loss of his brother. But Sherlock remains calm and put down the teacup. 

 

"Right."

 

And he walked past John to his room and slammed the door. And now here he is, sitting on the edge of the bed, not knowing what to do with the new information about the closest yet the most annoying person in his life. 

  
  


\------

  
  


Sherlock remains silent on their way to the Barts. On the other side, John is ready to anticipate what might come. Sherlock is not the one who burst out his emotion immediately. He tends to proceed everything until all his brain cells get the emotions and then decided what he would do about it. The irony of how he could decide and jump into the action in a very short time of thinking if it’s about a case, but he needs hours or even days for his brain to do something about emotional context. So John tries his best to stay beside his best friend and stay silent as well, in case he erupted at some point. 

 

They arrived at the Barts, which is more crowded than usual especially at this in the middle of the night. Sherlock’s aware that there are lots of secret agents in disguised as patients, doctors, and nurses, sitting in the dark cafeteria, in the hall, in the waiting room and ER. In the morgue, there are some agents but they’re in no disguise and openly guarding the whole floor. Molly greets them and tries to give her condolences to Sherlock but of course, he ignores her and John signaled to her that it’s not the best time to talk to him. 

 

Sherlock look around the morgue and there’s him, on the table, with Anthea standing beside him as always. He stopped a few meters before reached the table. There’s a lot of denial, doubt, anxious feelings that looming around him. His mind keeps deducing that the person on the table who’s covered in the white sheet is already dead more than 5 to 6 hours based on his feet skin color and a lot more general information about the body. 

 

“He’s dead around 7 pm yesterday. I found him on the floor. He’s been autopsied and his death positively caused by heart attack.” 

 

Anthea’s voice sounds so crisp in the quietness, and it is going through Sherlock’s skin and deep into his bone. He moves forward and Anthea’s lift half of the sheet. And there he is, the omnipotent brother lie on the table. Sherlock’s eyes couldn’t stop scanning and give him the accurate data while his brain trying it best to denied everything. 

 

Alexander Mycroft Holmes

 

47 years old

  
  


Death: Heart Attack

 

Time  : 19:00 

 

Used to overweight

 

Diabetes

 

Perfectionist

 

Stress level: High

 

Eldest son

 

Sherlock shut his eyes tightly. He can’t bear it to read his brother like this. Usually, Mycroft would be so in control and conceal everything so Sherlock couldn’t figure out more than few things. But now he’s unarmoured, literally naked and vulnerable, Sherlock could deduce him as much as he wants. Sherlock could freely deduce his brother’s scars and histories behind them, tracing some secrets that his big brother has been hiding from him; however, it won’t be fun anymore as he couldn’t do anything with his new information about his brother. He can’t use it as joking material to annoyed Mycroft or just to laugh at it. When he opened his eyes once more, he tries to hold his deducing brain and just purely take a look at the dead body. Suddenly he feels a lump in his throat and his eyes starting to feel burned. 

 

“It’s- It’s my brother... It’s really Mycroft..” 

  
He choked out and tears streaming down his face. He falls to the ground and starts sobbing, his hand clutching his irrationally painful chest. His brain can’t find a good way to stop this shock. His body feels hurt but it’s not bleeding. The pain can’t be seen but it felt so real. From the distance, he swears he heard Mycroft said “This, brother mine, why caring is not an advantage.”

 

\-----

 

The next day Sherlock just locked himself in his room. Mummy has called him many times but he just ignores it. In the end, John is the one who needs to hear Mummy’s hysterical crying on the phone. Sherlock is definitely in shock. He has to deal with death countless times before. He has seen people dying, analyzing dead bodies, and killed someone as well. Death is never been too far away from his daily life. But he never experienced the Death from the inside of his life. He has not born yet when his grandparents passed away, and all his close relatives are healthy and alive. This would be his first family funeral and it felt so hollow. 

Sherlock just staring at the picture on his desk. It’s the only photograph of him and Mycroft that he keeps and framed properly. It is from his 6th birthday and Mycroft just bought him a pirate hat and eyepatch. That was the best day of his entire life and he couldn’t love Mycroft more than he loved him on that day. Sure there are lots of things happened between them including Eurus and Victor, and since the “Redbeards incident”, Mycroft try to change Sherlock’s memories and pressed his emotion so they become cold to each other at some point. But their close relationship and brotherly bound can’t be easily deceived, so in the end, they still care to each other even though they show it in such a weird way; Mycroft with his power complex and over protectiveness while Sherlock with his snarky and cruel words. 

 

Suddenly the guilt washed over him. He saw Mycroft last week. They get in a row because Mycroft forced him to sign some papers and insisted Sherlock to take care his own bank account. And as usuals, Sherlock just answer him rudely and then they get into deduction debate, Mummy, and all Holmesian problem. And then he childishly pulled the “Eurus” card which makes Mycroft stopped talking at the moment and just look him with hurtful eyes. Mycroft literally shut his mouth and scratched his chin, creating the most uncomfortable silence between them ever. Then he gathered all the papers and picked up his umbrella. He takes a look at Sherlock once more and accept his defeat and then leave. John from the kitchen only say “we both know that we don't like him that much but that's not a nice thing to say, Sherlock” but then the consulting detective just brushed it off; he used to hurt his brother more than just a words. Mycroft just over dramatic. In the end, that's not a nice way of remembering the last time we meet someone forever. Sherlock never ever thought that will be the last time he saw his pompous big brother. He's very sure at that time Mycroft would come back in a week just to check on him in the various annoying way. 

 

He then picked up his violin and played his emotions out. The tone and tempo were fast and messy at first, but in the end, Sherlock delivered his mourning and silent tears through a melancholic tone that broke everyone's heart in the flat.

 

 

Sherlock sits on one of the benches while scanned everyone who's come to church. It's a lot more people than he thought. Most of them are agents, politicians, ministers, and even the PM himself. Holmes whole family is there as well, except Eurus of course. All the relatives almost there as well. He always thought that his older brother's funeral might be a sad one with just a few persons comes including him. 

 

Mummy and Father sit beside him. Mummy has been crying non-stop since she gets the news. Father tries his best to keep calm but in the end, his eyes glistening with tears. Sherlock feels highly uncomfortable in this emotional situation while he needs a reassurance himself. It's Mycroft's job if it's about family things. His brother always knows what to do with their parents. He couldn't thank John enough to be here and comfort his parents. Rosie has become a good distraction as well. 

 

After some moments and everyone already sits down, Sherlock called to give a eulogy speech. He felt so tense more than when he needs to be John's best man. He's aware his emotions really take over his logical mind. He could just start crying anytime soon. Father grabbed his hand and nod his head. Sherlock never thought he would need that. But then he walked slowly to the front and standing near his brother's coffin. He takes out a piece of paper from his black suit jacket. A speech that his brilliant mind struggle to write the night before. 

 

“We are gathered here today in the memory of my older brother, Mycroft Holmes, so that together we may acknowledge and share both our joy in the gift that his life was to us  that his life was to us, and the pain that his passing brings. 

 

My brother was just 47 years old when he passed away on Tuesday at his office. He’s dedicating almost all his life to his job and his family. “I’m the smart one” is one of his favorite lines every time we met. He loved to mock me and my ability of deduction but that’s how the reality is. He’s smarter than me, just like what a big brother supposed to be. He’s more clever, more precise, more calm and calculated and of course, a better self-control. 

 

He was well known as  The Ice Man. The man who can’t feel and have zero emotion. I think everyone in here agrees that he can have a debate with the most powerful minister from any country and could send them home with tears in their eyes. I believe it as well, that he has no emotion. He could do everything based on logic only and keep telling me how bad it is to have an emotional context in our works.

 

But believe it or not, and I'm still trying to believe it myself that he has emotion. Yes, I hate to say this but he spent his entire life to take care of me. He always the one who’s patching up my wounds. From that time when fell from the bed, when I burned my hands when I broke my legs, and then it turns into something more when I get stabbed with a knife, and when I got a bullet in my chest. He’s always there to ruin the fun, you know? He was full of worries and anxiety-like old women in their 90. And all his overprotectiveness and power complex. Oh, don’t make me start about how annoyingly his perfectionism. You all who works for him must have a really high pressure, aren’t you? And he always makes people work for him, that lazy fatcroft. 

 

Right, since this is eulogy I need to say only the good things about him. Let’s see… The good things about him… Well, he was a responsible man. He bears a great responsibility in his shoulder to protect our family as the eldest son. And then he has a lot more as a man in his work. What else? He was smart, intelligent, heartless... Actually, he was the same as me. But the difference is that he has a lot of self-control, composure, and better morality than I am. He builds a perfect facade so he could at least blend into the society with his own way. He was the successful eldest son who my parents could bring to the family events without caused any embarrassment. I still can’t believe how he could become a boring man with a boring job but still look glorious at the same time. He was extraordinary, he has a superbly intelligent and mind and work but then his life ended because of a heart attack. How could you, Mycroft? I expect something better than this.” 

 

Sherlock stop for a tiny moment when he realized that he is now in front a lot of people. He’s been in too deep to his speech that he thought he was talking with Mycroft. He could see in the audience that he just sounded rambling and maybe no one get his speech because in the end there’s a lot more than he wanted to say about his brother that left unsaid. Since the first time he opened his mouth he talked in a normal speed and cheerful way but then it gets faster and he's starting to talk at a rapid pace. Now he realized that his eyes full of tears so he just take a deep breath and go on for the last part.

 

“The point is, that I know that almost all people in here gathered to give condolence are not because you all have a deep emotional connection with him. No, he’s not a person like that. Not because he’s you all loved him as a friendly person as well because he’s nothing like that. But I’m sure that we are all here because we highly respect him. We honor his dedication to his work and his family. He was and would still be the great man that we all know.  He lives on in our memories and stories, and in what all of us have become because of him. On behalf of the rest of the family, I’d like to thank you all for coming here today.” 

 

After that Sherlock walked fastly to the church door to go out. He just wanted to cry. 

 

….

 

John just looks at his flatmate sympathetically. Sherlock stayed after everyone has left. He keeps playing his violin, that heartbroken piece. In fact, his heart is really broken. He felt really vulnerable and humiliated to be seen mourning for his annoying brother. Sherlock put his violin back to its case and prepared to go. He touched his brother’s headstone and whispered in a broken voice that he never imagined would come out from his mouth.

 

_ “Your loss already broke my heart, brother mine.” _

  
  
  


**The End.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**I hope you like it.**

**.**

What, you want more? ;)

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Sherlock couldn’t sleep even though his body and mind are exhausted. So he just sits on his couch trying to relaxed his mind. Well, but it seems impossible since every time he closed his eyes he would see Mycroft’s face again and again. It’s annoyed him that he missed his brother already. He then walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. There are some eyeballs that he could be experimented with. In order to distract his sadness, he prepared the tools and begin to dissect it. Not until one hour his phone chirped. He read the text and almost fainted.

 

**What a eulogy, my dear brother!**

**You flattered me more than I expected.**

**How very touching.**

**But really, must you cry, brother mine?**

**MH**

 

Mycroft in an airplane ready to take off just smile wholeheartedly while he repeatedly watching a video that has been sent from Anthea's phone. A video of his baby brother delivers a eulogy speech for him. He knows he broke his brother’s heart tremendously but he needs to. He’s dead for everyone, but he knows he can’t let Sherlock to grieving too much and afraid that he would go back into the drug den. Oh well, he indeed worrying like an old granny. Mycroft knows that Sherlock cared for him but to see it and hear it from the arrogant gentleman give him a bizarre yet pleasant feeling.He chuckled when he received his brother’s reply.

 

**FUCK YOU FATCROFT.**

**SH**

  
  
  
  



End file.
